


Sweet Melody

by hawkfruit



Category: Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: Birthday Presents, Complete, F/M, Fluff, Mutual Pining, Random & Short, Romantic Fluff, Short & Sweet, lots of fluff because my heart is soft, one scene that is tense but everything else is Soft tm
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-10
Updated: 2019-05-16
Packaged: 2020-02-28 19:28:40
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 8,232
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18762940
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hawkfruit/pseuds/hawkfruit
Summary: Even though it's Luka's birthday, both he and Marinette have a surprise for each other.





	1. 2pm

**Author's Note:**

> I watched the Silencer episode and immediately went to tumblr for fanart to calm my raging Lukanette feelings. At the same time I knew I had to write something for this ship, and so I'm sure that this lovely fanart that I stumbled on (https://zoe-oneesama.tumblr.com/post/182811986264/it-looks-great-on-you-hes-thinking-the-same) inspired the beginning of this story, so credit where credit is due!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I watched the Silencer episode and immediately went to tumblr for fanart to calm my raging Lukanette feelings. At the same time I knew I had to write something for this ship, and so I'm sure that this lovely fanart that I stumbled on (https://zoe-oneesama.tumblr.com/post/182811986264/it-looks-great-on-you-hes-thinking-the-same) inspired the beginning of this story, so credit where credit is due!

His birthday had all in all been a very nice one. Despite the number of nonchalant dismissals that had tortured his family for weeks prior as they asked him what he wanted to do in celebration, his mother and sister had thrown Luka the perfect party for his taste. The few close friends he had from his school were invited, as wells as a handful of family friends, but the party was mostly made up of Juleka’s friends (who had, in turn, become good friends with him over the year, either through Kitty Section or just constant exposure), which he was just fine with. Actually, more than fine. More than once he’d find his gaze wandering through the group, searching for a certain blue-haired girl. Whenever their gazes locked she’d shoot him that dazzlingly genuine smile that did strange things to his chest, and he’d give her a small wave.  

Nino Lahiffe, as had apparently become tradition, acted as an excellent DJ for the party, which overall consisted of the usual— food, music, dancing. It led to a calm, enjoyable setting that was lit up by the bright afternoon sun and glittering waves.

He was with a group, listening to a classmate tell a story about her latest wild dream when Luka noticed over his friend’s shoulder Marinette, seemingly searching around the crowd, holding something to her chest.

“Sorry,” he said, interrupting the story, “tell me the rest later? I’m going to go help someone.”

His classmate smiled and waved him away, continuing her intricate tale to those around her. Luka was politely making his way through the small crowd on the dance floor when Marinette seemed to stumble and fall in his direction. Luckily he was close enough that she simply fell against his chest, making it quite easy to keep her from hitting the ground.

“Oh sorr-” she started, before realizing it was him. “Ah, Luka! S-sorry!” She jumped away from him, a bright, charming flush around her cheeks. One hand hid something behind her back, while the other rubbed sheepishly at her neck. “I think bats— er— _boats_ tend to make my clumsiness even worse! And I mean— can you imagine? Even worse than it already is—”

“It’s no problem.” He could sense her about to spiral into the long rants she gave when she was particularly nervous, and wanted to stop her before she went down a negative spiral. Gently taking her arm, she followed him to a nearby snack table and sat down next to him. “We’ve lived on this boat for so long sometimes I forget what solid ground even feels like. Then I get off and I expect my legs to be shaking.”

She giggled at that, and not for the first time he thought about how that noise was as sweet as any note, and probably one of his favorite sounds. “I guess we balance each other out then,” she said.

Absently, he could feel the fond smile sitting warmly on his lips. “I guess so.”

For a moment her eyes were bright and wide, nervousness behind them but also another unreadable emotion, which was quite unusual considering how expressive she normally was. “I noticed you earlier- were you looking for something?”

“Ah- yes, er” it was also rare for her to be this nervous around him. Marinette’s flustered state was a rather common (and endearing) thing, but he enjoyed how close they had become, and how she seemed to be relatively at ease around him. But they were also currently sitting close enough that he could see the freckles around her eyes, like little stars framing her lashes. Before he could dwell on it more, his fingers itching to put these feelings into guitar chords, Marinette cleared her throat. She put on a silly, faux-formal air, and visibly relaxed.  “Luka Coffaine, on this day, the celebration of your birthday, I present to you a gift.”

The girl pulled out the box from behind her back with a small flourish, though when she looked up at him again he could see her cheeks were still a pleasant shade of pink.

“Thank you,” he said, as he curiously took the box from her, unaware of the small, surprisingly giddy smile on his face. The box was about as big as his face, and was decorated in neat, light blue wrapping with a pink bow around it all— each of their favorite colors. Luka opened the gift slowly and carefully, though he had to hold back a grin as he noticed the girl’s knee bouncing impatiently from under the table.

Inside was a knit denim blue beanie, and as he took it out to inspect he saw a small fabric tag marked with Marinette’s stylistic signature. He looked up at her with an incredulous gaze. “You made this yourself?” He slipped it on with a smile.

“Mhm!” Just as he searched for something for a moment, Marinette, seemingly reading his thoughts, pulled out a small pink and white polka-dotted compact mirror for him to look into. “If you want,” she was saying, as he looked at himself and made sure to fit it well around his head, “I can make it longer for you. I wasn’t sure if you’d want it to show your roots or not.”

He handed her back the mirror, feeling a silly grin on his face. “No, this is perfect. Marinette, you’re so talented.” The hat was the perfect blend of thickness, so as to be able to be worn comfortably in any weather Paris might throw at them. And even to his untrained eye, Luka could see that the knitting was done skillfully, that the thought that went into it was beyond that of a hobbyist— it really showed off her passion for design. “I love it.” At his words Marinette bit her lip, cheeks blossoming in pink.

“Oh!” She blurted out as if remembering something. “There’s one more thing.” Carefully she took the beanie off his head, turning it inside out so he could see the tag again. “I thought it might be useful if this also served as a little pocket for your picks— since you were saying the other day how they keep getting lost in your jeans.” She pulled out a pick from her pocket and slid it inside the small pouch, shaking the hat a bit to show that it would stay in place. What caught his eye, though, was that it was the Jagged Stone pick he had given her when they first met. His heart warmed.

She tried to hand him back the hat, but he covered her hand with his. Her eyes widened slightly as he slid the Jagged pick back out. “I still want you to keep it.” He put it back in her hand, curling her fingers around it, before grabbing a pick from his own pocket and it putting it inside.

“Warm…” she mumbled to herself, though he didn’t quite hear.

“What did you say?” he asked with a small cock of his head.

“N-nothing! Ah— I said, _what_ a relief that it fits your pick! It took me so many tries to make sure I got the size right, _haha_ , I mean, if a pick wouldn’t fit what’s the point, right?”

He smiled, something he always seemed to do much more brightly around her. “Thank you, _Mamamourinette_.” She shoved his shoulder playfully, eliciting a laugh from the boy. “Actually,” he continued, “Speaking of Jagg—”

“ _And now, my sailors!”_ His mother’s voice came booming over the speakers, and he turned slightly to see her up on the stage. “Give a warm sea-fairing welcome to the Kitten Section!”

He noticed that the rest of the band was already up on the stage tuning their instruments.

“Come on up, Luka!” His mother called. “You’re going to be the entertainment for your own party!”

As the crowd laughed amicably around them, he stood, shooting Marinette an apologetic smile. He opened his mouth to say something, but then she cut him off.

“Tell me later, go play!”

He nodded, sliding his new beanie over his head before getting up on stage. He plugged his bass into the amp (this time one smaller than the music festival, so as not to upset the police force again), and relished in the familiar feeling of the strap sliding over his shoulder. Here, now, is where he felt most able to express his feelings.

“Which songs do you want to play?” Rose chirped over at him. His sister nodded from behind her. “It’s your birthday, so you should choose!”

“The newest one— and then the usual set?”

“Okay!” The group nodded in agreement.

“Speech!” He heard a voice call out from the crowd, and looking down saw a rather mortified Marinette standing next to a cheering Alya. “Birthday speech!” Nino joined in next to her, then Adrien joined from his spot on stage at the keyboard, and soon the entire small crowd on the boat was chanting.

With a small chuckle he stepped up to Rose’s microphone, wrapping his hand around it and stooping down a bit. “I’m not always so good with words, so I’ll let our music make the speech.” The crowd gave a small cheer at that, but he barely noticed. He couldn’t help making eye contact with Marinette, standing at the front. “But this one goes out to everyone who made this past year special for me. Thanks.”

Her eyes practically glowed, and even from the stage Luka felt like he could get lost in the deepness of their blue. Her happy clapping along with the crowd as he stepped back into place made his chest hum, and soon he poured out all of his thoughts and emotions into the notes and chords of his guitar.

 

* * *

 

“That was awesome, Luka!” Alya beamed, as the last of the guests were leaving.

“Yeah dude, that was totally your best performance yet!” Her boyfriend agreed from next to her, and Luka shot up an appreciative smile from where he was kneeling.

He finished packing his guitar and stood up, the case slung around his shoulders, and smiled down at the trio. He glanced over at Marinette just as Alya gave her a nudge, and she blurted out, “Y-yeah! Totally awesome.”

Though her words were flustered he could tell she was genuine in her praise— just as she was genuine in everything. That was one of the things Luka admired most of he, and he wanted to tell her that he was thinking of her the entire time that was why he had played so well, but anyway these days he was always thinking about her.

Just then Adrien came up to them, putting a friendly hand on Luka’s shoulder. “Awesome playing today! Thanks for inviting me over.”

“Of course,” Luka replied warmly. “I’m glad you could make it. Kitten Section’s not the same without your piano playing.”

The blond’s smile was inexplicably bright, until with a bit of a start he suddenly shot a look down at his watch. “Oh! Yeah, speaking of, I really have to get going to my Chinese lessons before my father gets upset.”

He started grabbing his things to go, and Nino said, “I’ll walk you.”

Adrien nodded, waving to them as they left. “Thank you again, and happy birthday, Luka!”

Luka turned back to the two in front of him, and saw Alya’s face alight with a broad, knowing grin. “I better get going too! I promised my little sisters Nino and I would watch a movie with them.” She gave a hug to Marinette, with another not-so-very-subtle nudge to her side as they embraced, and then a quick, friendly hug to him as well. “Bye girl, bye Luka! Happy Birthday!”

After waving he turned again to Marinette, noticing her slightly wide, darting eyes. “A-ah I should get going then? U-unless you need help with cleaning up!”

“No, no, no!” His mother called, having appeared over his shoulder. “You may have played music at your own party, but there’s no way you’re staying for clean-up crew! We’ve got it here, you go get ready!” It was true that she, Juleka, and Rose were all equipped with brooms, dustpans and trash bags, each with a determined look on their faces. It seemed that despite Anarka’s disdain for cleaning and organizing, a party full of teenagers was enough to get even her to clean, or at least enough to wear her down. The woman gave them both a gentle shove away from the main area before getting to work.

Now slightly more alone, Marinette tilted her head at him. “ What does she mean by

‘get ready’?”

“Ah, I meant to ask earlier but we got interrupted.” He pulled the papers out from his pocket. “They pitched in to get me two tickets to the Jagged Stone concert tonight. Would you come with me?”

If her eyes were wide before, they were the size of saucers now, her deep, crystal-blue pupils almost comically round as she blinked at him a few dozen times for good measure. “Wh-wh- me? I- I mean, I don’t want to force you, though! Doesn’t Juleka want to go with you? O-or your friends from school, or-”

At his warm, rich laugh that he couldn’t quite suppress she stopped. “Marinette, it’s okay,” he said, looking her in the eye and putting a soft hand against her shoulder, still chuckling. “You wouldn’t be forcing me, _I’m_ inviting _you_. I’d be really happy if you came with me.” Her cheeks were still red, a glowing contrast against her light brown freckles. He continued, “Juleka said she already had plans to see the concert later on TV at Rose’s house, and anyway you’re the one I’d want to go with. If,” he added sincerely, “you’re okay with that.”

She bit her lip again, in that way that threatened the regularity of his heart rate. After a few more moments— which he was happy to endure, since looking into her eyes was always an enjoyable pastime— she nodded slowly, shock being replaced with a bashful look that made his pulse beat heavier.

“Thank you. I would love that.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments and kudos are much appreciated!


	2. 7 pm

At 7:04 pm, the small bell chime of the bakery door signaled Marinette Dupain-Cheng’s exiting out onto the sidewalk. A small breeze passed through the street, ruffling her skirt and the hair around her shoulders.

“Marinette,” a soft voice called out.

She turned to see Luka giving a small wave as he jogged lightly to catch up to her.

She offered a bright if somewhat nervous smile before waving back. 

“I hope you weren’t waiting long?”

“Not at all!” She responded. “I just stepped out.”

He smiled warmly at her, and her heart skipped a beat or ten. From here she could see the reflection of the moon reflected in his eyes, and was taken aback as she always had been at just how bright a color they were, two shining disks. He took a step back to see her outfit fully, and she was again reminded of his height. 

“You look beautiful,” he said with a sincere smile that sent her cheeks flaming. “Did you design the outfit yourself?”

“Y-yeah I did! W-well, not tonight, after working with Jagged Stone for his album cover I knew I had to make an outfit if I ever went to his concert, so I had this in the back of my closet, but, you know— haha!” She lost her train of thought, and for a moment felt mortified, but Luka just remained smiling pleasantly. 

“I’m sure he’ll appreciate it.” He said.

She was wearing a black and white Jagged Stone crop top, with a deep, purple-pleated skirt as an homage to the musician’s signature color, and ripped black thigh-highs down to her black sneakers. Marinette had made sure to paint her nails purple and put on every Jagged Stone necklace and bracelet that she had been gifted over the years. As a final, subtle touch she had pinned back some of her hair with a hair clip she had made to match the Eiffel Tower sunglasses she had previously made for Jagged. 

“Oh— er— actually,” from her purse, where Tikki hid, happily eating sweets, she pulled out another pin. “Since you invited me out using your birthday present, a-and I made the clip— well, it’s matching Jagged’s sunglasses, and obviously he has two eyes so there's two parts, so when I made the matching hair clip for my outfit I actually made two and— if you want you can have this one?”

Luka took it with an impressed smile as he inspected it for a moment before pinning back a piece of his hair, the clip sitting just underneath a very familiar beanie. The fact that he was still wearing it made her heart glow.

“Thank you, that’s awesome.”

They started walking down the street and soon Marinette felt her nerves soothing. She wasn’t sure how, but the boy’s presence always did that. One moment he sent her stuttering and spouting embarrassing nonsense, the way she always was when she got flustered around a boy, or anyone else for that matter, but then she always seemed to calm down. There was something so warm and kind about his quiet presence that made her feel at ease, and soon she was giggling fondly as they chatted.

The moonlight always had the beautiful effect of a soft-wash over the narrow streets of Paris, brick paths rendered gentle shades of grey and brown, illuminating the vines hanging over the intricate black-railing of balconies. It also lit up the color of Luka’s in a distractingly attractive way, causing Marinette to catch herself lingering on the bright, ink-shining roots and soft blue petal tips a bit too often. She was quite sure that at one point Luka noticed and had a glint in his eye, but she did her best to ignore it. Of course, though, the universe hated her and wouldn’t let it go, despite her best attempts to stop looking at him.

“You’re staring,” he had that teasing lilt in his otherwise tranquil voice that always threw her off. 

“N-no I’m not.”

“Yes you are,” the grin on his face was ridiculous and annoying. And endearing. 

“No,” she crossed her arms with a huff, “I’m— uh— _studying._ If I want to be in the fashion industry I have to see what the trends are.”

He held his arms out with a chuckle. “Study away, then.”

Marinette blushed and was about to argue, but then she realized for the first time that she hadn’t actually properly looked at his clothes, despite what she had said as an excuse, and so she decided to do just that. He wore a grey tank top with bold purple and white ‘JAGGED STONE’ lettering as well as one of the singer’s older album designs, a black denim jacket with a few pins on it (including a single Ladybug and Chat Noir pin which made it very hard for Marinette not to panic a bit), black jeans scattered with various rips and gashes, his usual patch-covered vans, and his newest beanie.

“So?” Luka asked, an expectant look canceled by his otherwise small, goofy smile. “Do I pass the test?”

She pretended to stick her nose out with a pretentious ‘hmph,’ but she was grinning too. 

After some time they arrived at the train station, which was buzzing with all the activity of a city’s Saturday evening. In a moment where they were almost separated in a particularly aggressive crowd of businessmen, Marinette grabs at Luka’s braceleted wrist. It was only after a few moments that she realized, mortified, what she had done, but he didn’t pull away even as the crowd settled, and they stayed like that for a bit longer, Marinette’s cheeks a happy pink until she caught up to his stride. 

They went through the practiced motion of scanning their passes and getting on the right subway, which was just as crowded as the main station. They managed to find seating at the back of the cabin, though the father and toddler next to them took up a seat and a half, meaning Luka’s warm legs were pressed against hers as she looked out the window, begging her cheeks not to catch on fire. Marinette absently wondered if she’d need a fire extinguisher for her face at some point this night. 

As the subway rolled on, though, she could sense Luka getting more and more jittery, flexing his fingers or bouncing his leg, at the prospect of the concert. This side of him was entirely new to her, and one that she was enjoying very much. Soon the pair were discussing their favorite songs, what they thought each stanza of lyric represented, Jagged’s different phases, and so on. Before she had even noticed it, the subway car had actually become rather empty, but even so Luka didn’t move away from her, his shoulders brushing against hers as he made hand signals to describe Jagged’s awesome fingerpicking.

* * *

 

“That was awesome!” Marinette yelled over the surging crowd. 

“I know! That last song sounded entirely new, it was so cool live!”

He was practically beaming, a smile so bright Marinette felt the urge to shield her eyes, but she opted instead for smiling right back at him. Her arm was wrapped around his as the intermission crowd raged like a river around them, and Marinette felt oddly like a fish trying to swim upstream. Finally, though, after a rather rough climb up some stairs, they found the bathroom area. The wait was ridiculously long, but quite honestly the blue-haired Parisian had so much adrenaline coursing through her veins from the first half of the concert that she didn’t even notice— not when some of the songs were still ringing against her ears. It felt like in no time at all she was drying her hands and walking out of the stalls. 

She couldn’t find Luka outside, and a minute or so later she felt her purse vibrate. She pulled out her phone, giving a small wave at Tikki at the same time, and saw a text.

_ ‘Sorry, someone clogged three of the stalls so the line is being held up.’ _

She shot Luka back a quick,  _ ‘Don’t worry, I’ll be by the water fountain.” _

Humming another Jagged song, she bounced lightly on her feet as she rested against the wall. She was scrolling absently on her phone, and had found a particularly funny video about a pet rabbit when two shadows fell over her, causing her defensive instincts to automatically kick in. Looking up, she saw two figures walking towards her, and tried not to wrinkle her nose in disgust. The two lanky, slouching boys with greasy hair wreaked of liquor, but from the looks of them could be no older than 17. 

“Hey girl,” one of them drawled, and Marinette felt every individual skin cell on her body crawl. “Why are you waiting out here by yourself?”

“I’m not by myself.” She turned to leave to her left, only to find the water fountain blocking her path. By the time she turned the other way, the other boy had his long, bony arm out, blocking her path. 

“Really?” He was saying. “‘Cause It sure looks that way.”

She immediately started assessing the situation. There didn’t seem to be any security nearby, though that would have probably been the best course of action. She didn’t have a single doubt in her mind that she could take the two of them on easily, but even without the super agility and strength that her miraculous granted her, the muscles and reflexes she had built over the course of being Ladybug definitely surpassed most kids her age, raising suspicion. Luckily the two hadn’t pressed closer, and seemed to be content enough ranting at her over something. Marinette knew that if she waited for the right moment she could slip away.

She was carefully planning her escape route when she heard a low, “ _ Hey _ ,” just down the corridor.

His voice was deeper than she had ever heard it, and it was forceful, but it wasn’t loud or angry— it held an extreme, chilling  _ calm _ that was way, way more intimidating. She could tell the boys thought so too, their postures immediately stiffening rigidly as Luka shoved past the second boy’s arm, so as to put himself between them and Marinette.

“Oi, what are you doing?” one of them asked, though his voice cracked. Just at that moment she saw past the boys’ shoulders and noticed a sign next to the men’s bathroom thats text had before been covered by a line of people. She discreetly pulled her phone from out of her purse, not moving it from next to her thigh while she texted. She hit send as the boys kept rambling tipsy nonsense in front of them. 

“Are you okay?” Luka whispered over his shoulder. Marinette gave a steady nod. Luckily her phone was being covered by Luka’s legs in front of her.

“He’s  _ talking _ to you,” the second boy said, and Luka looked back over again. 

“Sorry,” he said, his voice aloof but dripping with annoyance in that same manner of frigid, aloof anger. “I don’t speak Idiot.”

To Marinette’s slight surprise, that seemed to infuriate the two boys, and her fight or flight instinct kicked in as she saw them roll their shoulders. She was completely ready to take on these two herself, knowing that she could easily overpower them considering a. They were drunk b. She probably had more muscle as the two of them combined and C. She was a freaking superhero in her spare time. Also, like hell would she let Luka get in a fight on his birthday, at a concert he invited her too, and even less would she let him get hurt, period. 

She was getting ready to throw herself in front of him, a hand already on his jacketed shoulder, when a booming “ _ Stop that! _ ” resounded through the hallway. Two security guards came jogging towards them. One took the two startled boys aside while the other came up just in front Marinette and Luka. Luckily the questioning was straightforward, and after the first guard pulled out a breathalyzer and realized the two underaged boys were rather drunk, it went by rather smoothly. 

A few minutes later Marinette was looking down at the way her hands intertwined with  Luka’s as they weaved their way through yet another crowd of people. Absently she realized she had no idea who grabbed whose hand first this time, but the solid warmth was a pleasant comfort and she wasn’t about to complain. 

“Marinette?”

His calm, soft voice brought her out of her thoughts, and she realized they had stopped in a small quiet spot created by a large, potted plant and the wall of a merchandise booth. She looked up and saw concern in his eyes— his bright, sky blue eyes, that always held an inexplicable depth behind them, that always looked at her with such kindness and affection that it made her feel like her entire heart was melting. 

“Marinette?” 

When he repeated himself there was slight teasing laced through his voice, and Marinette blinked widely in surprise, realizing she hadn’t actually said anything.

“Y-yes! That’s me!”

He chuckled, slightly, but it was half-hearted before the concern returned to his eyes. “Are you alright?”

She blinked at him again for a moment, before realizing what he was referring to. She wanted to crack a line that saving Paris from supervillains on a weekly basis rendered two tipsy boys nothing, but she couldn’t for various reasons— and the worry was so genuine in his voice that she didn’t joke.

“Yeah, I am.” She rubbed at her arm, and found that she hadn’t realized she had been tense until now. “Thank you.”

After searching her face for a few more moments Luka seemed to find what he was looking for, and let out a little sigh and a nod. “It was a good coincidence security came.”

She couldn’t help the slight grin that spread over her lips as she waved her phone in front of him. “A coincidence that I saw the sign for the security hotline after the crowd for the bathroom had thinned enough.”

He blinked down at the texts on her phone, then looked at her in wonder. “You’re so perceptive. And so brave.”

Her eyes went wide at that. She never understood how he could look at her like that, which such sincerity in his praise that she felt the need to look away, cheeks burning a hot shade of red. She wanted to somehow tell him that  _ he  _ was brave, having put himself in front her like that with no second thought, but the words were stuck in a heap at her throat, and she could barely swallow let alone speak the truth behind feelings. “W-well, we should probably get back to the concert right? Wouldn’t want to miss the second half.”

Luka smiled, and they both stepped back into the crowd. “There’s just one more place I want to check out before we head back.” His expression was very excited, and with his hand around her wrist she followed him curiously until they stopped at one of the nearby merchandise booths. The comfortable silence that fell over them as they waited in line was pierced by a happy, high-pitched squeal.

“Mari!”

She turned, and to her surprise, standing there was a girl who had lived next to her parents’ bakery quite a few years ago. They had been good friends in her childhood until the girl's family had to move to another part of France. Honestly, Marinette could hardly recognize her from how much she had grown, but the shock of differently colored eyes— the left green, the right brown— was unmistakable, and easily brought the girl’s name to her lips.

“Manu!” Marinette gasped back, and then turned to Luka with an apologetic glance. 

“Go talk to her,” he reassured, then gestured to the line with a slight chuckle. “I’ll still be here.”

With a nod she jogged up to the girl, and for a few minutes they talked about happy nothings— how the seaside was, how their family was, how funny it was that they were both at this concert, about the  _ cute boy _ Marinette was here with. A few long hugs later and the girl was skipping away to join her friends, while Marinette turned around to look for Luka. 

Just when she was about to step up to him away he turned away from the cashier, and the moment he saw her he smiled. 

From behind his back he procured two simple rubber bracelets. They each read ‘JAGGED STONE - EURO TOUR 2019, PARIS FRANCE,’ one in blue and one in pink. 

At her surprised look he pushed his hands closer to her, saying, “Go ahead. Pick one.”

“Luka! It’s your birthday!  _ I  _ should’ve bought these for  _ you _ !”

He looked down at his watch. “Okay, then I’ll give one to you tomorrow when it’s no longer my birthday.”

“Luka—”

He laughed. “Please? Let me match with you.”

Ignoring the sudden blush creeping up at the back of her neck, the girl let out a little exasperated sigh, outweighed by the tiny smile scrunching against her lips. After a few moments of her hand hovering over each bracelet, she chose the blue one, hoping the color would remind her more of him. 

“Thank you,” she said softly.

He gave a content nod and slid the pink bracelet happily onto his wrist.

 

* * *

 

The concert crowd roared around them in passionate harmony. Jagged had decided for the last song of the concert to throw one back and play one of his older and most well-recognized songs. That lead to, of course, virtually every single person there to be able to sing, sway, and dance along, and though the sound was deafening Marinette was quite sure she’d never had more fun in her life. Her voice was far from melodic or beautiful, but it was lost in the sea of thousands of others’ and the pure joy surrounding them made up for anything. It was also unbearably sweet to see the usually tranquil Luka screaming to a song at the top of his lungs, swaying around his purple glowstick (that she had lunged nearly five feet in the air to catch for him when they had been chucked into their section of the crowd) with everyone else. 

The dazzling light effects bounced of the stage and played on Luka’s hair in mesmerizing ways, turning the light blue tips into every color of the spectrum. Actually, they lit up every part of him, changing the skin around his eyes, the bridge of his nose, the curve of his lips to dazzling colors. It lit up everything else too, of course, as was the point, but for a moment she could only focus on him— on the rise and fall of his chest with the tempo of the music, in the movement of his chin as he sang along.

She realized then that she herself had stopped singing altogether, but couldn’t find it in her to care; not when Luka suddenly turned to face her, eyes lingering on hers. She couldn’t even find it in her to care that he had caught her staring, not when he was looking at her like  _ that,  _ not when the beat of the music was thumping through her veins, making it so she couldn’t feel her racing heart rate. The only thing she could feel was the steady rhythm of the bass, and how  _ hot _ it was in the crowd. The audience danced around them, and after spotting a bead of sweat dripping down the side of Luka’s face, along the side of his jaw, she realized her neck was damp too. 

When a particularly strong guitar solo started, an overly enthused fan bumped into Luka, making it that for once  _ he _ was the one stumbling into Marinette, and  _ she _ was the one catching him, arms shooting out to his sides as his hands caught themselves on her shoulders. At this distance— if you could call the breath of space between them any sort of distance— he had to bow his head down to be able to look into her eyes, which made the blue tips of his hair tickle against her forehead. She hardly noticed. His hand trailed to her sides, and hers slowly climbed up and wound around his neck. She was entranced by that steady, crystal gaze of his that seemed to hold a thousand different emotions at once, all before settling on one, open, and clear, and vulnerable.

All she could think about was how she just had to step on the ends of her toes to be able to kiss him.

She wasn’t sure who moved first, but in the breath of silence between the end of the guitar solo and the start of the music kicking up again, where the entire audience held its breath, their lips were pressing into each other. The drumbeat roared once more around them as her mouth moved against his. Though her skin felt feverishly hot at the spot where his hands pressed into the bare skin of her lower back left exposed by her crop top, Luka’s lips were soft and inexplicably gentle, allowing them to savor the first kiss.

Keeping her lips on his she fell back on the soles of her feet, and he bent down to follow, making her loose hair fall against her shoulder at the arch she had to make to reach him. She winds one hand through the soft threads of his hair, climbing up until she could feel the edge of his beanie, before trailing back down to his jaw. The noise of the soft breath that caught in his throat when she brushed teeth against his lower lips sends her head spinning, and pressed against his chest she could feel the warmth and comfort radiating off of him. 

By the end of the last song they pull away just a fraction, and for a moment Marinette enjoys the small haven created by his hair falling around her. In that space their noses brush together, and she simply stares into his eyes. They share the same air as their chests rise and fall in heavy unison, and for just a moment he touches his forehead to hers.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Agh honestly I wasn't very happy with how this chapter came out, and it makes me a bit embarrassed, but I know I can't write it any better and there's no way in hell I'm leaving this story idea unfinished when it gripped me so aggressively. I hope you liked it!


	3. 1am

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one's short, but full of sweetness.
> 
> P.S. In English she introduced herself to him in Cpt. Hardrock as "mamamarinette" and in french it was something like "mamamourimanette" so I just did some combination of the two, because I love it when Luka's playful.

Paris had many obviously beautiful aspects, of course. But he had always found the little things of the city to be the most beautiful— the little waves that lapped against the bank of the River Seine, the tufts of flowers and weeds that grew through the cracks of brick in the sidewalk, the chimneys framed against the sky. And yet somehow the city was always more beautiful at night— the long shadows cast by the muted light of the moon seemed to stretch out the narrow alleys, making the familiar city seem suddenly new. 

The chill of midnight air was crisp against Luka’s lungs, but he was still running on the adrenaline of the concert, even as they walked home. His current company, of course, also seemed to make Paris all the sweeter, lighting up every window pane and adding a new vibrancy to every flowering bush.

“Oh god!” Marinette cried next to him.

He tried not to chuckle at how cute she looked with her face in her hands. “Everything okay,  _ Mourinette _ ?” He couldn’t help loving the indignant puff of her cheeks whenever he called her that.

She was in such distress, though, that she gave nothing more than a short pout. “I just realized I have  _ so _ much homework to do tomorrow— today!” She glanced down at the time on her phone and let out a despaired whine, her loose hair ruffling in the breeze. “Sorry, I shouldn’t complain, I’m sure you do too.”

“Actually, I did all of mine yesterday.”

“Ahh, I would have! But I had to help my parents in the store, and I had to knit your gift, and then today I took forever getting dressed, and honestly, I think math should be banned for being a form of medieval torture and— agh.” She dropped her head in defeat.

He couldn’t help scratching the back of his neck in guilt. “Sorry— Since I kept you so busy, I could help you with your homework, if you want?”

Her eyes shot to his in surprise, a blush against her cheeks. “N-no! Sorry, I didn’t mean to sound like I was blaming you— if it wasn’t your birthday I would’ve found another reason to procrastinate don’t worry,” she added with a self-deprecating chuckle. “I guess it’s only now catching up to me how late it is.” She kicked a stray rock with her shoe before looking back up at him, her eyes bright and clear with sincerity. “But— even if I had mountains of homework left to do, I wouldn’t trade this night for anything. Thank you, Luka.”

He let out a little cough, cheeks burning with an unfamiliar heat. She giggled softly next to him, and he was sure it was because of the stupid smile that was probably on his face. Instead of responding, though, he just held out his hand as they turned down a street corner. A moment later she grabbed it, cold fingertips giving his a slight squeeze.

He suddenly looked down at her, only now noticing the slight tremble of her shoulders and the goosebumps raised against the skin of her arms, her bare midriff.

“Marinette—” his voice was a pang of surprised concern, “You’re cold.” 

“Oh— no it’s okay I’m—” but he was already shrugging off his jean jacket before wrapping it around her shoulders. He tried not to blush at the impossibly endearing way that she nuzzled into the collar. “Thank you,” she said, pushing her arms through the sleeves before buttoning it up. It was big enough that the black fabric seemed to swallow her up, and as he shoved his hands into his pockets Luka was quite sure her cuteness would be the death of him.

At least it would be a happy death.

“Won’t you be cold?” she asked.

“That’s alright— actually the breeze feels really nice.” He could feel the tiny hair raise on his bare shoulders against the chill, but it was a nice refresher after the fever heat of the concert (for a few reasons).

He glanced down to see Marinette biting her lip, and though it piqued his curiosity he looked back up at the skyline, thinking it best to leave her to her thoughts. A moment later she wrapped her arms around one of his, pressing herself lightly against his side.

With a smile they kept on walking.

For once everyone in the city seemed to be asleep, making it feel like he and Marinette were the only two souls awake. Sometimes they would chatter happily about anything, voices quiet despite not really needing to be, and other times they would remain in comfortable silence. The walk passed in absolute tranquility, until they finally turned onto the familiar street of Marinette’s house.

They stopped a short distance from the bakery door, and it was with some reluctance that she pulled away from him, just enough to face him. He held both her hands in his, and she pulled him lightly to follow her until her back was resting against the brick wall behind her. When she looked up at him her large, round eyes seemed to swallow the starless sky around them, blinking them back at him in ocean blue. 

“You’re beautiful, Marinette,” he heard himself murmur.

Probably the best part about her being so expressive was that he could  _ see _ the emotions on her face change in real-time. First it was a blink of confusion, then wide, freckled eyes, before a furious blush spread on her cheeks, which lead to an embarrassed pout, eyes cast down to the ground. Honestly, Luka didn’t need TV if he could just watch her.

“How do you always do that?” She mumbled.

He cocked his head just a bit. “What do you mean?”

She let out a frustrated breath, cheeks burning brighter, and when they met his her eyes shone with a passion that almost surprised him. “Y-you’re always complimenting me! And you do it all the time but it never feels less genuine! Meanwhile I— I can’t even make myself  _ say _ my feelings without stuttering and rambling like a mess. It isn’t fair.”

“Marinette…” He couldn’t help the fond smile that tugged at his lips. “I like the way you speak.” Her eyes shot to his in disbelief and he chuckled. “I do.” He felt the slight scrape of his teeth as they pulled at his lower lip. “And anyway, you don’t have to put your feelings into words. I can feel it, in the way you act. How you carry yourself, how you treat your friends, how you make your art. Your actions speak more than most people say in a lifetime.”

She was blinking at him like he had given her the moon, and it threw off the rythm of his heart. He found his eyes going half-lidded, and she brought up a hand to cup his cheek. He leaned into the touch, but at this point Luka was no longer entirely aware of his actions. All he could focus on was the perfect petal pink of her lips, the way her freckles blended into her blush, and the  _ look _ in her eyes. God, the look in her eyes.

“Oh you,” she mumbled. Her other hand pressed lightly against his chest. He could feel the heat radiating off of her through the thin fabric of his tank top. “Come here,” she mumbled, and with absolutely no resistance on his part Marinette pulled gently on his neck to bring him down to her height, pressing her lips against his.

If he could focus on anything other than the way her mouth moved against his, he’d probably feel his heart  _ melting _ inside of his chest. But instead Luka found himself only able to focus on the points of contact he had with Marinette— the warm hand at the nape of his neck, grasping lightly at the roots of his hair, her soft fingers digging into his chest, and the slow, savoring kiss. 

He moved forward to deepen the kiss so that her body was pressed between his and the wall behind her. One of his hands moved to hold her waist (heart hammering at the bare skin that her crop top afforded) and the other rested for support against the wall right next to her head.

Their combined breaths would mingle every time they parted in between kisses, until Marinette’s teeth grazed lightly at his lower lip and Luka all but groaned against her. She seemed to relish the noise, suddenly standing on her toes and wrapping both arms high against his neck to pull him closer. Their breaths were coming faster as she kissed him with a hunger that kindled a bright flame inside of him, so that despite the midnight chill Luka felt nothing but a burning, feverish heat. He found his arm snaking around the small of her back to even further deepen the kiss, the other one sliding to tangle in her hair. They moved against each other with a surprising intensity, so much so that his head was spinning. The girl was well and truly intoxicating, leaving him completely unable to do anything but keep kissing back, relishing the little noises she made against him.

“Marinette,” he mumbled against her lips.

“Mmm,” she just traced her tongue at his lower lip.

“Marinette,” he whispered again, finally gathering the amount of willpower needed to pull away, just a fraction. He tried not to laugh at the way she pouted, even with her eyes still closed.

Luka rested his forehead against hers and she leaned all the way back against the wall again, pulling him with her so that for a few minutes they’d rest, simply catching their breaths together, panting in unison. His heart was pounding against the cage of his ribs.

Fingers tracing absent patterns against his hair, she pecked the corner of his lip, and then the other. Luka chuckled, could feel her pout again as he simply placed a fond kiss at the tip of her nose. She trailed one of her hands to rest at his jaw, the other tugging lightly against his hair, and he could feel his eyes drooping again as he leaned into her touch.

“You’re making it hard for me to stop myself,” he said softly.

“Then don’t.” 

“You need to go to sleep. You have a lot of homework, remember?”  
She let out a huff. “It’s fine, I can just fail all my classes.”

He laughed again. “Marinette.”

“Well, one week of Fs won’t kill me anyway! Who cares!”

_ “Marinette.” _

“ _ Fiiiine, _ I’ll go to bed. Happy?”

“With you?” He found himself mumbling. “Always.”

After a pause their lips drew back to each other with a magnetic force. Her lips languidly moved against his, and he relished in the feeling for a few moments before pulling back again with a deep, shaking breath.

Luka pulled away to put a few inches of space between them, though she was still in the circle of his arms, he could see the wry smile pulling at her lips. That grin of hers made his mind go fuzzy.

“Time to go to sleep?”

Marinette nodded, and this time finally pulled away fully. He followed her two steps to the front of her bakery door, and tried not to focus on her flushed appearance, her tousled hair, her rumpled, slightly-out-of-place clothes. His heart beat heavily in his chest. 

“Will you be okay walking back?” She asked.

_ So selfless. _

“Mhm. I’ll be fine.” His hands slid into his pockets. “I’ll see you this week?”

She nodded. “Good night, Luka.”

“Good night, Marinette.”

 

* * *

 

Tikki was already snoring softly in the inside of her purse by the time Marinette tiptoes up the stairs. The girl goes lazily through the motions of her nightly routine— kicking off her shoes, brushing her teeth, pulling out her covers, setting apart her throw pillows— but her head is entirely somewhere else. She feels like she’s half-asleep already just walking around her bedroom, the events of the past day already a million miles away like some happy,  _ happy _ dream. The only constant is the warmth she feels blanketing her and the ghost of the feeling of his lips against hers.

When she falls against her bed she barely bothers to pull her covers over herself— she already feels like she has all the warmth she needs, and she curls against a pink pillow, eyes fluttering clothes.

In the morning Marinette would realize she fell asleep still in her concert clothes— more specifically, still wearing Luka’s jacket. She’d be mortified, and make a note to give it back to him as soon as possible with a bubbly feeling in her stomach.

But for now, she simply burrows into its warmth and falls into a peaceful, dreamless sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That was really fun to write!! I hope you guys enjoyed it, I hope you guys love Luka as much as my entire damn heart does, and remember to comment if you have the chance! Comments and kudos mean a lot to me, thank you guys for reading!


End file.
